


Like the Stars, Keep Shining

by IJustGoNormalSometimes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Derek and Stiles support each other, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad and weirdly wholesome, Stiles panics, Story slightly changed from canon, stiles after nogitsune
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 01:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17152346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IJustGoNormalSometimes/pseuds/IJustGoNormalSometimes
Summary: After the Nogitsune, Stiles is left a little raw and a lot paranoid. He’s sad and confused and the guilt is eating at him every day. It’s been two months but he’s still not over everything. Honestly, how can you get over almost killing a friend?





	Like the Stars, Keep Shining

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so, first things first: The canon was a bit changed in this work. Stiles, possessed by the Nogitsune, fought with the whole pack in some kind of final battle, and he ended up hurting Allison pretty badly before Stiles overpowered the thing. I imagine after all this they managed to expel the Nogitsune in some way... so I guess I just did with the canon what I wanted ‘Cause o was sad and wanted a fic like this. 
> 
> Secondly:  
> M, I wrote this for you a while back, kind of channeling my angst into something less sad... I know it’s Christmas and you were probably expecting something cheery and fluffy for your pre-present, but to be honest I wanted to dedicate this one to you, too. Just as a reminder, I guess. To always keep fighting and to never forget that there’s people that care. I love you sis, Merry Christmas (and don’t worry, the fluff will come later tomorrow)

Stiles couldn’t believe himself. He was here. Again. Fuck, couldn’t this ever stop?! He was just shaking in anger, sadness cutting deep to the bone and ugly fat tears just streaming down his face.

 

Why was he crying? Nothing really. Like, he wasn’t even crying over some specific thing. So damn pathetic. He was so mad he was crying like a baby and he wasn’t even sure what he was mad about... he was mad at himself. For being this way. For having these problems. Jesus Christ, why couldn’t he be somebody else?! Anyone out there wanna be Stiles Stilinski? ‘Cause he sure as hell would trade.

 

Ok he didn’t mean that but fuck him, he just wanted a break.

 

—————

 

This particular night of angstiness started as anything else started in this world, with pizza. He had missed the last pack meeting, and the one before that, and the one before that one. Ok he had been steadily missing pack meetings in general. After the Nogitsune thing he just... he wasn’t in a great place. He’d been seeing everyone around and he was feeling like himself again... somewhat. And that would be an amazing feat if it hadn’t been two months since it all happened.

 

Stiles had a system. He cried, he hated himself, he worked on some school shit, he slept, he had nightmares... rinse and repeat kinda. But Scotty had to go and be a good friend and worry about him and practically beg him out of isolation, so Stiles figured, why not, right? He’d go to this meeting. Nobody seemed to resent him or be mad at him. If anything they were all worried and looking after him, which was nice. Even Allison, who he’d hurt badly while he was- whatever. Even Allison was smiling at him and made a point of telling him it wasn’t his fault. The thing is, he just didn’t believe her. Or any of them. He was practically waiting for the night when they all just had enough and told him they hated him forever. At least then Stiles would stop obsessing about it and have closure.

 

But he tried to not think about that or anything too much while he swung by the pizza place near Derek’s place. Scotty said it was gonna be a chill meeting, just some general chat of how things were going, and then movies and pizza and popcorn. So Stiles felt... good. He could do that much. He wasn’t needed to help on any particular Big Bad, and no one’s life was on his hands or anything. So why was his heart speeding up?

 

He pulled up at Derek’s place, took a few calming breaths he was sure everyone with wolfy ears heard. Great. He just had to take the pizza boxes and go in.

 

He stared at the house.  _They’re inside. They don’t want me here... not really. Not after everything- I almost killed them, I should’ve been faster, I could’ve-_

 

Three knocks on his window scared the socks outta him. Derek’s stubbled angular face smirked from outside, and Stiles made sure to open his door a little too harshly all of a sudden. “Hey” was all he said.

 

Stiles gave him a small smile despite himself “Hey Sourwolf”. Derek’s face was as blank and impossible to read as ever so Stiles, trying and failing to not make things more awkward, grabbed the pizza boxes, readily bumping them into Derek’s chest. And by bumping them he means he hit Derek accidentally with the boxes and they almost tumbled down if it weren’t for his wolfy reflexes.

 

Derek easily stacked all the boxes in one arm and turned back to Stiles. “You sure you want to go inside?” He asked.

 

He and Derek has been steadily talking after... everything. At first it was just a couple of texts, then it was phone calls, and eventually it was Derek coming over almost every night just to chat for a while before Stiles went to sleep. Derek understood stuff not even Scotty had managed to, and man had he tried. Stiles appreciated someone who understood, in some way, what he was going through. He wasn’t happy with the fact that Derek had gone through a Grand-Canyon-size pile of bullshit and that’s why he understood, but they’d been slowly helping each other heal... or at least, Stiles liked to think he wasn’t useless and that he actually helped somehow, too.

 

The thing is, Stiles’ little lust crush on the man had grown to deep affection, I-think-I’m-in-love-with-him kind of affection. Something deep-rooted and warm-feeling that Stiles felt ashamed of, because he had no right to feel that way. Not about Derek. And not after-

 

_Stop it._

 

He stood tall, shook his head and gave his best I’m-not-ok-but-I’m-trying smile, and said “I’ve ignored you guys long enough, I guess”

 

Derek looked across his face one more time, gave a curt nod and jerked his head towards the house “C’mon then”.

 

As he got inside, everyone turned to him with smiles that ranged from ‘treading-lightly’ smiles to outright pity smiles. He felt uncomfortable but the arm in his lower back pushed him far enough that the door closed behind him. It felt like an ominous block of his only escape route. So he smiled and waved awkwardly and said “If we watch that damn Notebook movie one more time I swear to god...” he tried for levity, and it worked.

 

Suddenly the whole mood of the room had lifted, and Lydia snorted, “Its Derek’s time to pick so I guess we’ll settle for some action or suspense movie about a million years old” she said with amusement.

 

From the kitchen Derek said “We’re watching Rain Man”

 

Scott snorted and Stiles smiled. He knew that Rain Man was one of Derek’s favorite movies, right up there with Memento and Fight Club, and though he’d never let Derek live down how much of a tough-and-deep-guy cliche he was with his taste in movies, he secretly reveled in the fact that he knew something so trivial and yet so private about Derek. He found it oddly heart-warming.

 

He sat down and immediately, as if he was a wad of cash and his friends were corrupt politicians, they all seemed drawn to him, and kind of moved at once towards him. In mere minutes he was closely surrounded by Pack.

 

With Scott at his side, Lydia somewhere around his left knee stylishly sitting on one of the bean bags Derek had been tricked into purchasing, Isaac practically cuddling his other knee, Allison was to his left, but she’s left a space in between, Jackson was beside Lydia, and finally on his left side there was a spot that all of his friends suspiciously left empty for the one broody wolf-boy that was missing from the picture. Kira wasn’t in the room, but he remembered in Scott’s texts that she wasn’t feeling well, so he tried to calm his paranoia a bit. She was just sick.

 

Derek entered, took one look at the sort-of-but-not-quite puppy pile and claimed his seat beside Stiles. Not quite touching but close enough. The movie started and slowly but surely, the somewhat tense postures of his friends soon melted against him.

 

He should feel happy. Relieved actually, that his friends wanted him back. That they missed him. That they wanted him close even after everything he did to them. He remembers in the last moments the Nogitsune was writhing and his head felt like it was gonna explode. He can still see himself charge after his friends, try to hurt them. He can see himself kicking and grabbing... something... he remembers the moment it connected with Scott’s face, with Lydia’s side... he remembers the moment it connected with Allison, and when it did again, and again and again. He could’ve killed her, he was trying to overpower the Nogitsune but he should’ve been faster, better, smarter... he should’ve-

 

 _No. No bad thoughts. Think something else..._ Like how it would be amazing to memorize cards like Ray did in the movie. And how he’d like to visit Vegas sometime and try out what he’d learned about poker on YouTube... he’d probably take Scotty... Scott would probably take Allison... But she was still hurt. Her limp was still there. The scars on her arm had worn off but Stiles could still see them. And Stiles can’t help but have those horrid flashbacks. He almost did it. He almost killed his friend- he almost-

 

Derek stood up suddenly, “Stiles, mind helping me with more popcorn?”

 

Stiles, still a bit confused by his off-putting reverie, replied dumbly “but you can do that on your own”.

 

Derek just sent an unimpressed raised eyebrow his way. It took a moment but he understood Derek just wanted to give him some space. Some time to compose himself. He was giving Stiles an out. And so he stood up and cleared his throat, which felt suspiciously hoarse, like he’d been holding back a scream, and said “I- I mean, sure”

 

He looked back to notice that all of his friends were staring at him, so he smiled politely (more like a jerk of the muscles around his mouth) and scurried out of view. He entered the kitchen and sighed heavily. Why couldn’t he keep it together for two goddamned seconds?! They were all out there, waiting for him to be fucking normal. Fuck. _Fuckfuckfuckfuck_

 

His breath was starting to quicken and his whole body was shaking and he didn’t even know why. Why the fuck was this happening?! Derek placed a careful hand on his back, in an effort to ground him, and started counting in bouts of four. Stiles knew this. He could do this. Four in. Four out. Four seconds, inhale. Four seconds, exhale. Its not rocket science. He could do this. He calmed his breathing but his heart still felt like it was just wildly fighting to get out of his chest.

 

Derek patted him gently a couple times in the arm and said “If it’s too much you can just leave, Stiles. We don’t want to force you to do anything...”

 

“I don’t get it” was all Stiles panted. His thoughts too loud to hear anything else. He wasn’t supposed to be here. _He didn’t deserve to be here_ “Why are you being nice to me? I- I did things Derek. I was there and I saw it and I could’ve stopped it I just-. Fuck. I- I shouldn’t be here” he panted and looked around wildly, his eyes not quite focusing on anything.

 

He made a move for the door and although he thought for a second Derek might try and stop him, he didn’t. So Stiles just gets in his Jeep, and peals out of the driveway, all while pointedly trying not to think about his friends, his supposed pack, back in that room, probably wondering what the fuck was wrong with Stiles now.

 

Stiles just shakily exhaled and started his way back home. Home. Where his Dad was, probably awake and expecting him to stay at Scott’s, like he usually did on pack nights. But tonight... tonight he can’t. And if he goes back Dad’s gonna start asking questions. Questions he’s not sure he’ll be able to answer without passing out from hyperventilation.

 

He doesn’t want to be seen having his melt down and panic attack though, so he goes to the only place he knows that’ll be deserted. It may as well be the most dangerous place in Beacon Hills too, but at this point any big bad out there that finds Stiles... well, let’s just say Stiles wouldn’t run from it. He’s not sure he’d even fight it.

 

So he finds himself outside the Hale house, looking up with water-filled eyes, his face marked with several little paths the tears have created. And he wonders once again why. Why the hell is he feeling so angry. So upset and so fucking broken beyond repair.

 

He used to be proud of who he was. He considered himself smart, and he noticed stuff others didn’t, which filled him with a sense of purpose. A sense of responsibility to find what others couldn’t, to be the person that figured it out. It was his only way to reciprocate the dynamics in the pack. Even if he’d had his qualms with some of the members of the group, I.e. Derek, that was long past. He had deep respect and admiration for all of them, and for what they’d done for him. So he felt like he had to give back, be useful, for them. And for their pack.

 

But now he couldn’t even look at them without feeling an outsider, useless, dangerous. It made him upset in ways he hadn’t even fully understood yet.

 

After months he still couldn’t shake the guilt he felt, the anger at himself, the shame that it had been him. He could’ve been more careful somehow. He could’ve fought harder. He could’ve never been Scott’s friend in the first place and maybe none of this would’ve happened.

 

He failed to hear the rumble of a car engine approaching, but he couldn’t miss the foot steps walking towards him. He sat up on the ceiling of his car, where he’d been laying down, and tried to wipe out the tears as he squinted to look who it was.

 

“Why aren’t you with your father?” And that was the unmistakable soft tone of Derek Hale.

 

“He asks too much questions...” was all Stiles offered as an explanation. “I can leave if you-“

 

“Not why I’m here” said Derek. He proceeded to lay down some kind of thick and large fleece blanket and then just laid on his back without a word. Stiles understood the tacit invitation to join, but he took his time. He needed the solitude for a moment, the sense of privacy he had on the top of his car. So, although Derek wasn’t really intruding, Stiles still felt like he needed his space for now.

 

They both remained quiet. Stiles tried to ease his breathing and just stared at the stars. His mind slowly going blank as his eyes flickered from one white speck to another. The view was amazing from here.

 

After a while he stepped down from the car and went to lay down beside Derek. They stayed there, just in quiet awe, looking up at the effortless twinkling of a billion of tiny, yet immense, balls of light above.

 

“I think I know something of what you’re feeling” said Derek. “It’s actually the reason I come here sometimes. Alone”

 

Stiles just turned his head, signaling to Derek that he was, in fact, listening. “After everything that happened with the fire... I couldn’t even look at Laura. She was- I betrayed them, and it was my fault that they were dead. I blamed myself... still do. And I wanted her to blame me too. It hurts to be here... but it feels like I deserve it- the reminder”

 

Stiles returns his eyes back to the sky “That wasn’t your fault”

 

And Derek moved his head to look at Stiles’ profile “And this wasn’t your fault”

 

After a few beats of silence, Derek continued “The words are meaningless if you won’t let yourself believe them. They may be true or they may be a lie, but that doesn’t really matter... it won’t change what happened”

 

The silence stretched between them, and slowly, Stiles felt the itch of it prickling beneath his skin. “This wouldn’t have happened if I was dead, in a ditch somewhere. If I’d never been born in the first place”. He could feel the strain the words had on his face and the tears were quick to reappear and overflow, falling to the blanket one by one, creating a soft, sad tapper.

 

“Scott wouldn’t be alive if you didn’t exist. I wouldn’t be alive. A great deal of people wouldn’t be alive-“

 

“And a great deal of people could be actually dead because of what I did, don’t you get it?!” Stiles heaved and closed his eyes, trying to rein himself in.

 

As calm as ever, Derek continued “You don’t get to decide that Stiles. Just as you didn’t get to decide what you did when the Nogitsune attacked. You feel paranoid because you think you’re a threat to all of us, that you somehow have responsibility over how it played out Stiles, but the truth is, all of us played a part in what happened. Maybe not directly, but we did, or we could’ve stopped it, or realized sooner. There’s plenty of blame to go around”

 

Stiles sniffed and frowned at the dark above him “Yeah well, I blame myself”

 

Derek turned to him “Yeah, well, we don’t”

 

Stiles finally brought himself to meet Derek’s eyes, and the both of them lay there quietly, staring at each other. “I feel like I should be saying something about people taking their own advices...”

 

There was a small quirk in Derek’s lips, quickly gone, but the softness of Derek’s eyes remained “I have plenty of blame I carry on my own...”

 

Stiles smiled sadly “I know” he said softly, “I know. You should learn to share. Maybe carrying it together isn’t as bad”

 

Derek searched Stiles’ eyes, and after moments, he replied “I’m trying.”

 

Stiles wiped his eyes and gave a humorless laugh “Me too... Trying is gonna have to be good enough for tonight, I guess”

 

Derek held his eyes with something akin to determination “Pushing them away isn’t gonna change the fact that you’re pack, Stiles. They- They’re smart enough to make a decision on how to feel about you, and they decided to forgive and to care. You should respect that. They-We’re glad you’re alive”. Derek finally fell quiet, Stiles presumes he probably had to stop before he sprained something trying to talk so much, about feelings, of all things.

 

Stiles wanted to make a joke, to be sarcastic, to shove Derek away. To do something to stop feeling this vulnerable. But he also wanted to cry, and to hug Derek a bit, and to yell how grateful he was that this particular werewolf with enough angst and tragedy in his past for several lifetimes, was here, trying to comfort Stiles, of all people. It meant more than he’d ever have a chance to confess.

 

He smiled. And he let the final tear of the night slip past his eyelids and fall to the ground, lifting a weight off his shoulders that he didn’t even understand. He just felt lighter somehow. Not cured, not better, not “normal”. Not by a long-shot. But peaceful.

 

He turned his head back up, and Derek did the same.

 

They couldn’t control how the stars passed, how they were arranged, how they looked. One after the other, they paraded above them both, seemingly forming nonsensical patterns. Maybe they couldn’t control which star went where, but they could observe together, they could feel each star passing. And maybe, just like many men and women had done before them, they could learn from the stars. And keep going.

 

Always keep going.

**Author's Note:**

> If you feel the need to point out a grammar mistake I made, please do in the comments.


End file.
